


Love is what makes the world go round

by Gaia_bing



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fan Bucky Barnes, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Meet-Cute, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Romance, author Steve Rogers, drunk e-mailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-09 15:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11672265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaia_bing/pseuds/Gaia_bing
Summary: If angst is what makes Steve's books go around, then what he unexpectedly finds when he receives what seems to be a drunken e-mail is what makes his own world (and the one that wrote the-email) start to go the same way.





	1. Steve Rogers, angster extraordinaire

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I don't know where this came from and I don't really know where this is going, but I just know that it's going to be short and fluffy. Hope you enjoy! :D

Steve Rogers knew he'd be in the literal doghouse the minute his decision had been made.

  
Just when the two central characters of his romance series, _"To have and to hold"_ , had finally, **finally** admitted their feelings for each other and had spent their first night together, he'd made them break up, the commoner ranking of one-half too much to bear for the affluent status of the other.

  
And sure, he'd been expecting and had indeed received a lot of hate-mail, cursing at him for what he'd done to his faithful readers' favorite characters, and he'd even expected and had indeed received a bit of love-mail, congratulating him for being bold in his choice of storytelling.

  
But... this?

  
What seemed like a drunk-mail?

  
This took the cake and his curiosity.

  
"Dewr Asshatte,

  
Really!1? You couldn't let them be hapy for one fuking chapter? I waited twohole years for this book to get her and wat do I see when I arive at page 344? You brake up Lewis and Dav?! Fuckin reelly!?66

  
I meann, I know anst is basically the oil that make the romance genre goaround anda round, but did you really have to make Lewis say to Dave that the too of hem being together was a mistake, the morning after they actualy sleep togheter for the verri first time (the fack that it touk a whole threeee boocs to finallly get to that point is another sore point off mine, but I digres.

  
Listen listen.... I know it's just fiction and everiting, but kuite frankli, this is what I think of yur story, your series and most of all, yu.

  
tank yuu,.. goud night...,.

  
James Bukannann Bbarnezz

Enclosed with the email that Steve had just clicked on was a picture of what looked like the book that he'd published only a week ago, right next to what looked like the arm of a robot.

 

And the robot arm was giving him the finger.

 

...huh.


	2. James "Bucky" Barnes, messer-upper extraordinaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Buchanan Barnes knew he'd fucked up the moment he opened up his eyes.

James Buchanan Barnes knew he'd fucked up the moment he opened up his eyes.

  
Or at least, tried to open up his eyes because oh _god_ , since when did the light inside the apartment became so bright? 

(It really wasn't.)

  
Since when did his mouth become a damn ashtray? Had he smoked an entire pack of cigarettes last night? (It really hadn't. And he'd only smoked the third of a pack.)

  
And since when...

  
_"Good morning, Sunshine!"_

  
Oh sweet _**lord**_ , since when Natasha had to greet him so goddamn _loudly_?

  
(She really hadn't. She'd used her normal voice like she always did.)

  
"Hhmmeegghhh...." was Bucky's (that was what his friends called him) dignified response to his roommate's morning salutations.

  
And covering his eyes with his metal prosthetic was his dignified gesture to his roommate's motion of opening the kitchen curtains.

  
"Oh come on, you big baby! Lighten up! It's Saturday! The sun is shining, the birds are chirping..." she started.

  
"-And my I feel like my head is exploding." Bucky finished for her, finally regaining the ability to talk.

  
Natasha crossed her arms and shook her head. "Well, this is what happens when you're uninitiated to my end-of-the-week-Daiquiris-celebration. I always invite you to do it with me and you always say no. And then last night was the one time I didn't ask you and it's the one time that you say yes." she commented.

  
"But it was my end-of-awesome-book-Daiquiris-celebration! Dave and Lewis finally got it on after reading like 973 pages over five freakin' years. I had to commemorate the occasion with somebody somehow!" he whined as he once again laid his head against the wood of their kitchen table.

  
"Come on, scoot over. Mama needs her Netflix fix before her morning workout." Natasha asked, poking at her roommate's shoulder.

  
Bucky was the one shaking his head now.

  
"No, you had six of these damn concoctions and you're fresh as a peach and I had only three and feel like complete crap. You suck, so therefore you stay away from the laptop." he evilly answered.

  
"...I got a fresh pot of medium roast cooking just for you."

  
That sentence sounded like angels signing to the long-haired man's ears.

  
He raised his head once more and looked at his savior with a beatific smile.

  
"You rule, so therefore you can have access to the laptop all you like." he sweetly answered, before getting up in his search of much-needed caffeine and ignoring his best friend's giggles.

  
He took out is favorite cup for this particular occasion and was in fact in the middle of pouring himself some nice Nescafe...when...

  
_"James?"_

  
Bucky turned around. _"James_ " was what people called him when they were about to scold him.

  
"What exactly happened after I went to bed last night?" Natasha asked without waiting for her roommate to respond.

  
Bucky tried to think about it. Nothing came up. "Nothing. As you saw this morning, I probably passed out on the kitchen table after downing that damn third Daiquiri. Why?" he answered.

  
"...I think you should come take a look at your e-mails."

  
He slowly walked over.

  
...since when did his book migrated from the couch in the living-room to the table in the kitchen?

  
He slowly looked over Natasha's shoulder.

  
"Who the hell is "Asshatte", James?" the red-head couldn't help but ask as she looked at the incriminating e-mail draft that was shining in its presence on their communal laptop.

  
And that's when everything came back to the metal-armed man, like a freight train hitting a cow that was lounging along in the middle of the tracks:

  
The _fourth_ Daiquiri...

  
...The last 14 pages of the book that he hadn't remembered reading until right this moment.

  
Dave and Lewis had gotten in on alright,

  
But they'd also broken things off.

  
And Bucky...

  
Bucky had been _drunk_ right off his ass...

  
And had been _pissed_ right off his mind.

  
And then he'd...

  
Then he'd...

  
With the typing...

  
And the picture...

  
And the sending...

  
And the...

  
"And most importantly, why did he or her seemed to have answered you right back?" added Natasha.

  
Oh, _oh sweet **mother of god**_...

  
Since when did it get so hot in here?


	3. "Operation Apologies"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dread, a response, laughter and a crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I haven't updated this thing for almost an entire week, you guys! Hope you still like what I have to offer. :)

Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth Bucky went pacing in front of Natasha.

  
Chewing out his nails. Tearing at his hair.

  
"That's it. I'm burning my clothes, I'm changing my name and I'm getting the hell out of dodge. I'm thinking Canada, I mean, it's great this time of year, right?" he exclaimed, wringing out his hands in nervousness.

  
"James..." the red-head tried to say.

  
But Bucky didn't even hear her. "Okay, maybe not Canada. How about Siberia? I mean, yeah, it's a bit chilly, but nobody pretty much lives there, right? I can make a house made of ice, nobody will find me, especially not any authors that I drunk e-mailed just eight hours ago, right? Right. Siberia it is." he continued with wide eyes, chuckling like a maniac.

  
"James..." Natasha tried again.

  
"So I'll need a passport, a parka, some ice-sculpting tools, some hot chocolate so that I don't freeze to death..." the long-haired man began to list, or should we say, ramble on.

  
"James!" his best friend finally screamed out.

  
This seemed to take Bucky out of his trance and his expression turned from the maniacal happiness it'd been just now, to the absolute fearful one it'd been just two minutes beforehand.

  
Because when his broke out of his daze, he turned around and that was when he noticed that Natasha had just clicked on Steve Rogers' response to his shitty, shitty e-mail and it was staring right back at him, right there the laptop screen.

  
"Oh god, he's going to send the police here, isn't he? Or he's going to come here himself, beat me up with a bat, or with a wedge, or at least kick me really, really hard!!" he wailed, his eyes now wide in complete fright at his hypothetical doom.

  
Natasha could only shake her head at the whole ordeal. Getting up from her seat, she went over to where her roommate was standing, and patted him on his metallic forearm as she went on to explain:

  
"While I think you're a complete idiot for drinking that fourth Daiquiri and that you deserve all the kicking in the world for what your stupid tipsy brain did, I don't think you're gonna have to move to Siberia. Or to Canada even less."

  
"I...I don't?" Bucky asked in a small voice.

  
And Natasha couldn't help but smile at her best friend's childlike facial expression. She put a hand on his shoulder.

  
"Just go read his response, you'll understand. I think I can withhold my Netflix moment while you deal with this whole mess." she added.

  
With that, Bucky's roommate was out the door, a work-out bag in her arms and a wave on her fingers.

  
Dread filling up his stomach, Bucky pitter-patted toward the kitchen table, where the laptop and therefore, his favorite author's response to the mess that he'd sent him the night before, was resting.

  
With slow movements, he carefully sat down on the chair right in front of the computer and with a click of his own, made the text of the author's e-mail appear full-screen.

  
Bucky's fear slowly lessened and lessened as he began to read what was written in front of him:

  
"Dear Mr. Bbarnezz, (Is that really how your name is spelled?)

  
I normally leave an automatic response to the e-mails and letters that I get (my friend's idea, not mine, he said it'd help me save some time.), but your criticism of my latest work, or at least what I think is your attempt at a criticism of my latest work, peaked my interest so much that I just had to send you a personal response.

  
While I do agree that it may seem a bit on the cheap side to split Dave and Lewis apart just when things were coming together for the both of them after all this time, I believe that the key to storytelling is leaving people wanting more. And what better way to hook readers and get them to pick up the continuation of this tale than with one last angsty twist, I ask you?

Sure, I could have ended the story with all of the happiness in the world, but really, who would actually read what happens afterwards if everything was pinky dory right now? No one, I say, because in entertainment, or at least, as far as literature is concerned, fluff is boring. At least, in my opinion it is.

  
Anyways, thank you for your feedback and I hope that despite your emotional reaction about the fate of what seem to be characters every close to your heart, you'll continue to support _"To have and to hold_ " and any subsequent works that I'll be doing in the future.

  
Cordially yours,

  
S. Rogers, aka "Asshatte"

  
P-S: By the way, nice picture. Is the robot arm yours or is it just a prop? And how did you make it making me the finger like that?"

  
So Steve Rogers wasn't going to come here and kick him with all his might after all?

  
He really didn't have to move to another country under a brand new name?

  
For the first time since everything from the night before had come back to him, Bucky Barnes felt himself awash with relief and he pushed out a sigh, leaning his head against the head-rest of the kitchen chair.

  
Taking a couple of seconds to regroup himself with a couple more deep, calming breaths, he opened up his eyes in resolve and cracked up his knuckles in determination. 

And he began to type.

  
After all, he had a reputation as a Steve Rogers fan to save.

 

And so, _"Operation Apologies"_ was under way.

  
**************

  
Over on his side of the electronic exchange, the man in question was laughing his ass off.

  
Because right there on his computer screen, read the following message:

  
"Dear Mr. Rogers,

  
"I'm sorry, I was drunk when I wrote this.

  
I'm sorry, I was drunk when I wrote this.

  
I'm sorry, I was drunk when I wrote this.

  
Did I mention that I was drunk when I wrote this?

  
Because yeah, I was drunk when I wrote this.

  
And for that, I'm sorry.

  
Always, always, _always_ a fan of yours, please don't come at my apartment and kick me,

  
James Buchanan Barnes (that's how it's actually spelled, by the way).

  
P-S: As for the robotic arm..."

  
Enclosed with the e-mail was a picture, just like the first time this particular fan had contacted him and in this one...

  
Seemed to be yet another copy of his latest book and right next to it, the same robotic arm as the night before was giving him the thumbs up this time around.

  
But it was what was attached to this robotic arm that made Steve Rogers stop cackling and stare at the screen.

  
Because right there, connected to the metallic limb, was the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen in his entire life...

  
Giving him the most fakest, but also the goofiest, cheesiest grin.

  
And all of that took Steve Roger's entire breath and heart away.


	4. *So* not a date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just an author meeting a fan to further the discussion they've been having for the past week, right?
> 
> This is not a date between two men who have the hots for each other...
> 
> Right?

_"This is a very bad idea."_

  
It was one week, several e-mail exchanges later and Steve Rogers was sighing at his roommate, while also trying to decide his wardrobe for the night ahead.

  
"For the last time, Sam, no, it isn't."

  
The man in question, his very helpful editor every time he needed him but not very helpful best friend at this particular moment, came into the blond's bedroom and sat on his bed.

  
"See, this is why I suggested getting a automated response for your fan-mail. So that you didn't end up having to deal with all of the crazos in the world." he said, while looking at the muscled man's attempt to decide between wearing a black and a blue tie. 

"Hey! Bucky isn't a crazo, okay?" Steve exclaimed as he turned his head, a little bit indignant that his best friend would call the other man that.

  
"Really? Wasn't you guys' first contact him drunkenly ranting about your book or something?" Sam remarked, crossing his arms.

  
Steve turned his head once more to look at his reflection, as he tied up the blue garment that he ended up choosing. "Yeah, but he apologized and we ended up talking..."

  
"You mean, e-mailing." Sam corrected with a sly smile.

  
Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. We ended up e-mailing and it turns out he's very, very nice..."

  
"And you're going on a date with him." Sam added.

  
If Steve had water in his mouth, this would have been the moment he'd have done a spit-take.

  
"Hey! It's not a date, alright? We're just going to the coffeehouse down the street, to further our discussion about fluff versus angst that we've been having over the past week, that's all." he said.

  
Sam got up from the bed and was the one sighing now. "Huh-huh. It's not because you think the guy's the hottest piece of ass you've ever seen and you've been mooning over him for the past week, hmm? And you always meet your fans one-on-one, you always dress up more than to the nines when you do and you always, _always_ call them by their nickname when you mention them, am I right?" he asked with a small smile.

  
The blond man opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to respond to that, but all that ended up happening was a blush creeping up his neck.

  
"It's **so** not a date." he ended up muttering after all.

  
Sam chuckled and patted his roommate on the arm.

  
"Sure, it isn't. And I'm not about to go get myself the best damn pizza New York has to offer right about now!" he exclaimed, making his way out his best friend's bedroom and out of the apartment.

  
Steve took a good look at himself in the mirror...

  
His best tie,

  
His best shoes,

  
His best shirt,

  
All for a guy he thought was the funniest, smartest, most gorgeous human being he'd ever had the chance to meet...

  
And just the thought of meeting the other man in person for the very first time was making his heart do several summer-vaults.

  
The author clenched his fists and huffed.

  
Like he'd let Sam be right about this one.

  
This **so** wasn't going to be a date.

  
*****************

  
But sitting here at the coffee-shop, the both of them awkwardly staring down at their drink instead of at each other, both dressed to the tens, Steve Rogers couldn't deny to himself anymore...

Damn Sam Wilson for being right about this one.

  
This was **so** a date.  
  



	5. Angst vs Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting, or should we say, the date, finally happens.

_"..."_

  
_"..."_

  
Well, this was starting out pretty well.

  
After a whole week of questions:

  
_"So, what do you do with your life when you're not drunk e-mailing people?"_

  
_"Did you personally go to Scotland to put all this geographical stuff in your books?"_

  
_"So, your editor, is he as over-bearing as my roommate sometimes is?"_

  
_"Veterinarian, huh? Do you take care of common animals only, or do you wet your feet in the exotic from time to time?"_

 

Among others.

  
Answers:

  
_"I have a sister that lives in Jersey, we see each other once every two weekends."_

  
_"The scene at Lewis' mother funeral, that actually came from a real-life experience."_

  
_"I wanted to be an interior designer when I was growing up, but when I wrote my very first story, the bug just kinda stung me and I've been writing ever since."_

  
_"Before I was a doctor for animals, I was a doctor for a war. I lost my arm five years ago, but thanks to a buddy of mine, I ended up getting this little beauty for almost nothing."_

  
Again among others.

  
Getting friendly:

  
_"Is it okay if I call you Bucky, like you say your friends do?"_

  
_"Only if I can call you Steve in exchange._ "

  
Maybe even, getting sassy with each other:

  
_"You're really something, you know that Barnes?"_

  
_"Oh, like you're the one to talk, Rogers."_

  
But now, face to face, they couldn't even look at each other in the eye?

  
Did the last week had all been a whole bunch of nothing, a fleeting illusion, just a dream?

  
"...It's really n-nice to f-finally meet you, M-Mister Rogers." Bucky finally stuttered out, looking down at his hands.

  
This was when the awkwardness rolled off Steve. He finally looked up from his Thai coffee and exclaimed:

  
"Oh, come on now, you know that I'm like two years younger than you. So stop it with the "Mister" business, okay?"

  
Bucky finally also looked up but, with nervousness still in his features, replied:

  
"Look, I'm trying alright? It's just... there's me and then there's you and you're here and your books and everything else and god..."

  
Without thinking, Steve reached over and placed a reassuring hand over the other man's constantly tapping fingers.

  
"Listen, Bucky, don't think about my work alright? It's just what I do for a living and just because I'm in the media from time to time, it doesn't mean that you have to be nervous or scared around me, okay? Right now, I'm just a buddy that you met online..."

  
"-Drunk e-mailed online..."

  
That made the author smile. "Okay, fine, that you drunk e-mailed online and now we're getting coffee and hanging out face-to-cafe for the very first time, that's all." he added

  
That seemed to do the trick, as Bucky's metal hand relaxed under Steve's fleshy one and feeling bold, the veterinarian turned his fingers over and intertwined the two sets of limbs together.

  
He finally looked up and with a small smirk, he asked: "Oh, I don't think we're just hanging out. This is a date after all, isn't it?"

  
Steve blinked once, twice and responded: "What do you mean "after all"?"

  
"Let's just say that I am damning my roommate for being correct right this second..." Bucky said, shaking his head.

  
"...you and I might have more in common than you think." the blond replied with a chuckle.

  
That made Bucky smile even wider.

  
And all the while, neither of them let go of the other's hand.

  
********************

  
It was when they got out of the coffeehouse, still hand-in-hand, and, at Steve's proposal, were taking a leisure stroll down the sidewalk to help digest their cupcakes and beverages, that the debate that they'd be having for over the past week reared its ugly head once again.

  
"Look, all I'm saying is, people hate couples that are happy all the goddamn time. Fluff in small doses is nice and all, but seriously? Something is seriously wrong with your relationship if a disagreement never ends up happening between the two of you. If there's too much fluff and there's nothing to light things up, viewers or readers are going to think your stuff is boring. And in entertainment, nothing is more killer than when what you create is called boring, believe me." Steve explained.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he retaliated: "Yeah, well, people probably hate the opposite too. I mean, okay, you can have disagreements when you're in a relationship and all, but if that's what you always end up doing, then what the hell are you even doing being together? And in entertainment, when there's only angst to seek you teeth into, with nothing pointing at something nice happening in the near future, sooner or later, I think your viewers or your readers are just going to wonder: _"What's the point of all of this?"_ and then sooner or later, they're just going to quit your stuff and move on to something that let them get what they're looking for."

Steve shook his head as he pondered out loud: "You know, we've been going around and around on this subject ever since the moment we first made contact and I don't think either of us has budged even the slightest bit."

This made Bucky frown and stop his walking. "Yeah, you're right." he noted in a hushed voice. He looked down at the ground as he added: "It's now making **me** wonder: _"What's the point of all of this?"_ "

  
"Hey now, don't say that." Steve pleaded as he raised Bucky's chin with his unoccupied hand. "Even if we don't agree on one point, it doesn't mean that we have to give up on whatever this "thing" is between us."

  
And this made Bucky cover the hand that was underneath his cheek with his own unoccupied upper arm.

He asked as he looked deep into Steve's ocean eyes: "And what do you think this "thing" between us is?"

  
Leaning his head closer, the author answered: "I don't really know, but if you'll let me, I'd really like to find out..."

  
Also leaning his head, the veterinarian whispered back: "I'd really like to find out too."

  
The first kiss that the pair shared was more passionate than in any of the books or TV shows that Bucky had ever watched or read.

  
Separating, Steve couldn't help but let out a chuckle as he remarked: "Be careful there, if we do this, I might grow to like this fluff business that you love so much..."

  
Bucky smirked back as he replied: "Well, if things end up getting too boring for your taste, I might get some angst going just to light things up..."

  
"Oh baby, I don't think we're ever going to need any kind of angst to light things up between us." Steve said, wiggling his eyebrows.

  
Bucky reared his head back in a laugh. He tightened his hold on the other man as he cackled: "Finally, something that we can both actually agree on!"

  
Laughing back, Steve leaned in once more as he whispered: "Nothing was better said than this."

  
And the second kiss that the pair shared was more electric than in any of the stories or fantasies that Steve had ever dreamed or created.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All well that ends well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go, last chapter! Thanks to everybody who supported this little story in all kinds of ways, I really do appreciate it. :D

_Two years later..._

  
It'd been an exhausting night, the long-awaited launch of Steve's fourth and final book of his _"To have and to hold"_ series, but for the author and his veterinarian boyfriend, he'd also been a pretty fulfilling one. And sure, Natasha had provided the Daiquiris as drinks for the after-party, but thank god she'd remembered to give the couple of over two years non-alcoholic editions, so that another mess-up like the one that had started their little trek together would never happen again.

  
Speaking of their little trek, here they were entering the small house that they'd moved in just over a year earlier, hanging their coats and having a laugh.

  
"Did you see those women ogling you all night? My god, I've never seen so many people looking at one particular set of ass!" Bucky chuckled as he dropped his keys on the kitchen counter.

  
"Yeah, well, unluckily for them, this ass right here is already called for." Steve retorted, making a show of delivering a sharp smack to his fit bottom.

  
"Oh, that it is, alright..." Bucky said, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking suggestively. He slowly went over to the person whose downwards cheeks he owned, but who also owned his own heart and was about to commence something a little bit on the lewd side when suddenly, he spotted a copy of Steve's newly released book and instead, sat on the living-room couch along with his boyfriend and with a sigh, grabbed the binded pages.

  
"You know, I really wanna know how this story ends." Bucky exclaimed, propping his feet on the comfy cushions of this particular piece of furniture and laying his head against his boyfriend's chest.

  
Steve visibly tensed, making the other man turn his head and ask with worry on his features: "What, you don't want to read me the rest of the book? There's only like a page left that I haven't been read yet and you're like ten times better than any of those stupid audio-books they got over on YouTube and whatnot."

  
The author visibly swallowed. Crap, he hadn't planned to do this tonight. If he'd been given some time and some leeway, he'd done something special, something worthy of someone like Bucky, something...

  
"Hun, is something wrong?" Bucky asked, now looking really worried.

  
Steve looked at his boyfriend of over two years, the one person who'd made his throat go dry and his stomach do flips-flops at the very first glance.

  
_"Screw the plans"_ , he told himself, _"the sooner I do this the better."_

 

"Of course not, babe. Nothing's wrong. In fact, everything's perfect. Here, just, give me the book and enjoy the ride." Steve replied, visibly calmer.

  
Bucky looked at his boyfriend up and down in a suspicious glare, but still relented as he laid his head against Steve's chest once more, his thoughts being drifted by the other man's soothing voice:

  
_"Lewis couldn't believe it. After all this time, all this pain and all these tribulations, tonight he would do what he'd planned to do the mere second Dave had walked into his life and changed his heart for the better. And so, as the love of his life stepped through the door of their little cottage, the Scotsman tenderly smiled as he slowly approached the other man, took his warm hand inside his own and with a whisper, simply asked..."_

"...James Buchanan Barnes, will you do me the honor of being my husband?"

  
Opening his eyes in sudden shock, Bucky sat up from his previous position on the arm of the couch and could only look like a gaping goldfish when he noticed that...

  
Steve, the one person who'd made his knees go weak and his heart triple in its beats at the very first smile, had dropped the book from his hands and in its place, was now laying the most beautiful ring the long-haired man had ever set his eyes upon.

  
"Yeah...oh, yeah." Bucky responded with a shaky breath, and after the other man slipped the ring onto his finger, couldn't help but attack his now- _fiancé_ with a thousand-and-one kisses anywhere that he could reach.

  
"So, was that too much fluff, even for your own taste?" Steve asked, after the two of them separated at last.

  
"Oh, I think we can produce a _lot_ more than that." Bucky replied, drawing the other man once more into a filthy kiss.

  
And, if things lit up right there on the very couch that they'd been laying on, then it was their own business...

 

...their own and that of the readers who'd read all about it in Steve's next series of books:

  
_"Mr. Bbarnezz and the Asshatte."_


End file.
